Majestic Flight
by avrovulcan
Summary: Unable to sleep, Illya decides to take a breath of fresh air, but what happens next... was it a dream or did it really happen? Originally written for Picfic Tuesday on LJ.


Illya sat on the ledge next to a stone chimera, its mouth open in a silent roar and wings firmly folded against its back. Both man and statue were gazing across the Paris cityscape.

The assignment had been a difficult one, but in the end it was successfully completed with no casualties. As exhausted as he was, the Russian couldn't sleep, whereas his partner had started lightly snoring almost as soon as his head hit the pillow.

Unable to lie awake in the small hotel room any longer he decided to get a breath of fresh air. Their accommodation was at the top of the building, a wide ledge ran around the outside, just below their window, and at each corner sat a fantastical chimera; it was next to one of these Illya was perched.

"Beautiful isn't it? I never tire of the view."

Startled by the sudden voice, Kuryakin looked around for its owner, but found no one. Shaking his head he decided he was hearing things, he really must be tired.

"Do you not think so?"

Again Illya started, sure he'd heard something this time, drawing his Special from its holster, he again looked around. "Who are you? Show yourself."

"I am here, right next to you," the voice chuckled, " and I recommend you put that weapon away, it will do no good against me."

Slowly Illya turned to his left and looked up into the eyes of the griffon he'd sat next to only moments earlier, the statue actually smiled at him, "I must be going mad, this is not happening."

"You're not and it is. You never answered my question."

"Sorry?"

"I asked you if you thought the view was beautiful."

"I am sitting here nearly 150 feet up talking to a stone creature and I am not going mad? You are not real, it is scientifically impossible for you to be real."

The griffon leaned over and nudged Kuryakin with his snout, "and yet, here I am."

"I am more fatigued than I thought; I really need to get some sleep."

Carefully Illya stood and started to make his way back towards the window of the room he was sharing with Napoleon. Suddenly a piece of the ancient ledge crumbled from beneath his feet and gave way; the Russian sailed over the edge and hurtled towards the ground, arms wind milling wildly in an impossible attempt to halt his fall.

Just as he'd resigned himself to the inevitable, the strong broad back of the chimera was suddenly under him wings outspread, halting his plunge to earth.

"Thank you, my friend," Illya said as he settled himself comfortably, well as comfortable as he could while sitting on stone.

"You are welcome, would you like to see more of the city from up here?"

Sighing, he resigned himself to this strange encounter, as long as it was happening, whatever this was, he might as well enjoy it.

"Yes, I would. Thank you."

"Hold on then," the griffon replied as he banked sharply.

They flew along the Seine, gliding just above the surface of the river, the few people strolling along the banks enjoying the night, seemingly oblivious to the pair only a mere few feet away.

They circled the island the Notre Dame and the Holy Chapel stood on before heading northwards into the town, banking past the Pompidou Centre and heading westwards towards the Champs Elysees.

They flew straight down the centre of the famous avenue to the Arc de Triomphe, the stone creature flying almost vertically to fit through the arch of the monument.

Righting itself they banked again and headed south east towards the hotel passing close to the Eiffel Tower on the way. The griffon back winged, legs outstretched towards the ledge it'd left over an hour before, settling back on to its perch with a light touch and folding its wings back against its body it stared out to the dawning sky.

Illya slid off the creature's back and turned to face it; even with all he'd just experienced, he still found it difficult to believe it had happened at all. His mind was trying to find a scientific explanation, but none was forthcoming.

"I do not know what has happened tonight or why, but thank you for a most enjoyable flight."

"There is not always an answer to inexplicable things, just accept them when they happen and enjoy the moment."

"I will remember that, my friend."

"Oh, and mind that loose patch."

The Russian smiled and negotiated his way along the ledge "I will be careful, thank you again."

Soon Illya was back in the room, Napoleon was still out for the count, though had finally stopped snoring as he'd turned onto his side.

Illya quickly undressed, climbed into the other bed and was asleep before his head hit the pillow.

"Come on, time to get up, Illya."

"Huh, what time is it?"

"Six fifteen, and it's a lovely morning."

The Russian groaned, rolled over and pulled the blankets over his head, "wake me up at a more reasonable time, I only just got to sleep."

"Only just got to sleep? Why, what happened last night?"

"You mean apart from your snoring?" Came the muffled reply.

"I don't snore."

"You do, though I admit, not all the time; and you would never believe me if I told you what happened last night."

"Want to try me?"

"Nyet."

Solo raised an eyebrow, but didn't push it; he knew his friend would tell him in his own time….. if he wanted to.

Was it a dream or did it really happen? Illya was still trying to work that one out.


End file.
